


The Proper Response

by dramaticbanjo



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticbanjo/pseuds/dramaticbanjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Full title is "The Proper Response when a somewhat reformed criminal from the future crashes the reunion party just to announce he is dating your student".</p><p>Zanark remains Zanark, Someoka remains Someoka, and Nishiki has trouble eating his food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proper Response

To was a combination of celebrating Raimon’s win and a reunion of the original Inazuma Japan, which basically even made it a giant soccer party. Even Rococo managed to show up with Natsumi, hitting the top of his head on the lower doorway on his way in, and Gouenji furiously shielded Fideo from saying anything more than hello to his little sister. Someoka showed up a few minutes late with Fubuki, and Nishiki spent more than fifteen minutes trailing after his teacher with stars in his eyes.  
Eventually, people not from Raimon somehow got in, and even Hakuryuu somehow appeared at Tsurugi’s side with a drink like he had been there for a while. Taiyou waved to Tenma from the back, while Coach Endou told his old teammates about their recent adventures through time—how much they believed him, Tenma didn’t know, but from some of the stories Endou told about their middle school years, he had an inkling they would. 

It was getting later, and people were calming down now. Someoka was sitting at one of the tables, Fubuki across from him and Nishiki was sitting to the side. Fubuki’s student from Hakuren, Yukimura, was sitting closer to his coach, quietly sipping from a can of soda. Both adults laughed at something Someoka mentioned that had happened in Italy; neither Nishiki nor Yukimura understood it, but the former grinned widely.  
At the front of the Endou looked like he was about to say something to them all, when there was a distinct rumble; almost like the sound of rolling thunder, except there was something off about it.  
Tenma didn’t have time to think about it, because the cause of it literally plowed through the door and skidded with a screech across the floor, making burn marks from its thrusters like a tire would make skid marks. 

“Yo!” The only one who would ever make such an entrance smirked at the shocked faces, and took his goggles off of his eyes, “Heh, you all look surprised.”  
Shindou looked like he might choke on his drink, and if Tenma’s eyes got anymore wide, his expression might be stuck that way.  
Stepping off his motorcycle, Zanark’s smirk turned into a grin. “I bet you’re all wondering why I decided to come back? I can tell from the looks on your faces.”  
Everyone’s eyes followed him, whether they wanted to or not, as he moved to stand next to Nishiki. The midfielder looked up curiously, a few grains of rice stuck to his face.  
“Everyone! I have something I want to say!” His hand came down on Nishiki’s shoulder, “We’re going out!” The only sound was Someoka choking on his beer.  
“That’s all I wanted to say!” Even Nishiki looked so surprised, he dropped his onigiri. Shindou felt like introducing his forehead to the tabletop.  
“Hold on a second! Who are you anyways?” Someoka leaned on the table to point at Zanark, managing to look like a Mafioso when he did. Fubuki raised his eyebrows, taking another drink.  
“Heh…I’m the strongest member of the lower middle class, Zanark Avalonic!” The time traveler crossed his arms, “And the strongest striker in all of history!” Someoka’s glare moved from Zanark to level with his student, as if to ask, where did you even meet this guy, albeit a less polite version. Recognizing that look, Fubuki pushed a chair out with his foot, giving Zanark one of his usual smiles. Behind him, Yukimura frowned at him in suspicion.  
In the back, Shindou groaned, and massaged his temples, “…I can’t believe this is happening…” Beside him, Kirino took a sip of his drink, “You know, it looks kind of like a meet the parents set up.” At a table with Rococo and Kidou, Fideo was leaning forwards like he was watching a TV drama.  
“So, Zanark,” Fubuki began conversationally, while Someoka crossed his arms to glower, “Are you from out of town? Nishiki never mentioned someone like you.” Nishiki managed to pick up his dropped rice ball from the table only to almost to drop it again at the subtle accusation in the Hakuren captain’s voice.  
“You could say that.” Zanark’s smirk reached his voice; “We played a few matches against each other, before he saved me! That’s why I owe him a debt.” Nishiki, who had been nodding with what he was saying, choked on rice and started coughing into his hand. Any normal person would be cowed by the glare Someoka had on his face.  
“Ah.” Fubuki’s expression was as disarming as ever, “A debt?” He turned his head to look at Nishiki, who had gotten his coughing under control, a subtle why didn’t you tell us of this development in his smile, “Interesting.”  
“Ha! My power was going out of my control, and he saved me from destroying myself!” Nishiki looked like he might be in danger of choking, and Someoka looked like he might be in danger of being convicted of murder soon.  
“Oh? Does that mean you’re a Keshin user?”  
In the background, Tenma was watching so intently, he accidentally took a bite out of one of Natsumi’s rice balls instead.  
“That’s right.” Fubuki’s expression hadn’t moved from its friendly smile, “That’s quite impressive, wouldn’t you say, Someoka?” The other man looked like he was trying to telepathically send all of the threats from The Godfather to Zanark from his glare. “Yes, how impressive.” It sounded like he trying not to ground it out behind his teeth, but it also looked like Fubuki had kicked him under the table.  
“But you’re name’s unfamiliar; have you played in any tournaments?”  
“Ha! Until recently, there was no team strong enough for me to be a part of.” Zanark crossed his arms and smirked again, “And, of course, I only recently was cleared of my…” He paused, like something had distracted him, and it looked like Nishiki had the mind to elbow and not mention his former status as an S rank criminal. The midfielder also looked like he might have hurt himself doing so.  
Someoka’s eyes narrowed, and things got painfully quiet at the table.  
Suddenly, something on Zanark’s wrist beeped, breaking the silence. He looked down at it and then smirked, “Ha! They’re quicker than I thought.” Pushing his chair out, he stood up, “I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon.” Then, as if to further prove the point he originally came to make, he put a hand on the back of Nishiki’s chair, and leaned down to press his lips surprisingly mindfully to Nishiki’s.  
Fubuki’s eyebrows almost disappeared under his shaggy bangs, and he reached across the small table to put a hand on Someoka’s arm.  
Zanark then straightened up with his trademark smirk and walked back to his motorcycle, climbing on and pausing to put his goggles over his eyes. Back at the table, Nishiki looked like he was still trying to process what had just happened, and dropped his riceball again.  
“I’ll see you guys later!” With a sudden roar, the cycle activated its thrusters and drove out the same way it had entered; through the door and down the hall, before disappearing around a corner and a flash of light that Tenma recognized as a time portal.  
Someoka took drink of his beer, looking like he might murder someone with a Dragon Slayer v3. Fubuki’s small looked placid, but there was an edge of ice to it. “Well, he was certainly interesting.” Nishiki swallowed slowly, eyeing his former coach and the Hakuren coach, licking his lip nervously, only to discover sometime in his goodbye kiss, Zanark had bit him.

**Author's Note:**

> Do not be like Zanark. This is literally worst way to announce you're dating someone.


End file.
